


sacrifices

by kogamis



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kogamis/pseuds/kogamis
Summary: Life is always changing, and parts of you come and go.Written for Shinkane Week 2019, day 1.
Relationships: Kougami Shinya/Tsunemori Akane
Kudos: 8





	sacrifices

He is learning in pieces.

It starts first with his shell. She has an uncanny knack for navigating it as though he reads like an open book, finding its weaknesses, and then worming her way through those chinks to an inner layer he normally feels more comfortable hiding. But rather than being bothered by this unique talent of hers, he finds it curious.

He had never been a conversationalist, and that much hasn’t changed a bit over the years; especially not when he’s trapped in a crowd, or even in the workroom during most days. But when he’s alone with her, it comes more naturally. She almost always initiates it. He hopes she doesn’t mind. But rather than his typical one-offs or sarcastic rebukes, something about her aura lures his true thoughts out of him like the way his cigarette smoke fills the room by its very nature.

He thinks about her all the time, mostly when she’s around. He doesn’t ask his questions aloud, and relies mostly on careful, quiet observations to infer answers for what he leaves unspoken. His eyes follow her around the room unconsciously, though he never means to stare, and when he catches himself, he stops.

She’s getting better at reading his inquisitive expressions and prompts him for those unasked questions, and he’s growing more comfortable voicing them. He enjoys learning of her past and listening to her stories; he’s slowly making it a habit, whether by her coaxing it out of him or his reticent desire to initiate, to let her know he’s interested in her thoughts.

Still, he is learning.

He has always been a protector by nature; it’s what forged his relationship with his best friend, lead him down his career path as a detective, what drew him to tactical advising for survivors of a civil war reclaiming their independence from a dictatorship.

He is no different when it came to her. She was precious, and irreplaceable. If he were being honest, she pulled out his protective urges more strongly than anything else he’d ever encountered in his life.

But no matter how heavy his weights are, or how many countless hours he spends in the gym, or how increasingly thick his arms grow in bulk, he knows he can’t exist only as her shield.

At first, sparring with her made him nervous. Their size difference was a great matter of concern for him, so he would prefer to sit back and take turns with the sparring robot instead. He would study her, analyze her, internally grade her. Her form was correct, but her stance was slightly out of balance. Her disarming skill was excellent, but she left her defense just a bit open.

She would gladly take his advice, and eventually she was able to coax him into instructional demonstrations; how else could she learn if not with practice?

He’s not one to underestimate her, either. He is always careful to not use too rough of force, and he quickly learns to not hold back with her. He teaches her ways to utilize her size effectively, and she quickly masters the art of counterbalance and using her opponent’s weight against them.

It fills him with pride, seeing her excel, and that pride allows him to pull away from his carnal need to protect her, giving way to something healthier, more manageable. There was something meaningful about knowing with absolute certainty that she was capable of protecting herself, especially by his high standards, because there were undoubtedly going to be times where he couldn’t be there.

He realizes this especially when she requests to practice self defense maneuvers against sexual assault, and with that comes a dawning that there are pre-existing battles she’s already lost, and more to come, that he can’t shield her from, no matter how tightly he holds her.

A nightmare he can’t protect her from reveals itself one day when his mother calls him with news of his father’s death.

He learns how her soft chest brings more comfort to his face than the icy December winds from where he stands on the terrace, before she draws him inside to the protection of her arms. For a long time she holds him, and he understands why she so eagerly seeks the safety of his at every opportunity. She doesn’t ask him anything, doesn't offer any words. But where he lays, embraced by her unending warmth, gives him a semblance of being okay. 

Adaptation is something that comes naturally to him, but he categorizes change as something else entirely different. Change, especially if he doesn’t agree with it, isn’t easy for him, and it takes time. So it comes as a surprise when change occurs within him without his acute awareness of it.

Particularly, when he wakes up one morning and reaches for his pack of Spinels out of habit, but finds nothing when he lights it. It’s the blatant lack of change that he becomes starkly aware of.

There is not even a slight relief of his stress--or maybe there isn't any stress to be relieved of.

She finds the pack later, lured from their bedroom by the smell of eggs cooking. She holds it in her hands with amusement brightening her tired eyes.

“Your heroin tried to escape to the garbage,” she announces with a yawn, nuzzling her way under his arm as he stands in front of the stove. She taps it against his bare chest. He takes it from her and tosses it carelessly onto the counter.

“I’m quitting.”

“Oh.” She sounds just as surprised as he felt. On his behalf, she disappears to discard the pack where she found it. He switches off the stove.

“Why do you sound disappointed by that?” he jokes.

She pulls him down by his shoulders.

“I have a feeling I'm going to miss the taste,” she says, before she kisses him. He hums contentedly against her, curling his thumbs inside the waistband of her underwear. She smiles, letting out a small laugh that gets smothered by his lips. 

Though he is always learning, she makes it easy.


End file.
